


All That Jazz

by ScarlettWallflower



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Jazz Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 13:25:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8892436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettWallflower/pseuds/ScarlettWallflower
Summary: In the 1920's, America is the Land of Opportunity for a new wave of immigrants. Tolys, a Lithuanian-immigrant-turned-businessman, arrives at his rundown night club to find someone who just might help turn his luck around.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr account
> 
> And in my first foray into the vast world of Hetalia rare pairs, we have a 20's Liet/Fem Romano piece. 
> 
> Yes, the lyrics are from the musical Chicago. I might be the teeniest bit obsessed and reaped my inspiration from it.
> 
> Bianca is the name I picked for Fem Romano. I know people typically use Chiara but I personally like this name better. It may not be period appropriate but Hetalia is known for playing fast and loose with historical accuracy anyway.
> 
> Here's some notes/slang translations, just in case:
> 
> The bank's closed tonight- I won't have sex/make out with you
> 
> Gams- Legs
> 
> Carissimo- Italian for "darling"
> 
> "Like that Irish guy says"- The phrase "Jazz Age" is often erroneously attributed to F. Scott Fitzgerald. However, the term was in use before Fitzgerald began writing, typically as a way to criticize what the Moral Guardians at the time felt was an immoral decade. Fitzgerald may not have come up with "Jazz Age" but he is credited with making it part of the popular consciousness.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy and your reviews and comments are appreciated!

“Meet me at midnight. Alone.”

Tolys had been skeptical ever since he’d found Feliks’ note on his desk. He had no idea why they couldn’t have met during daylight hours. Did that mean Feliks had committed some kind of crime to get money? It made his stomach hurt just thinking about it.

When he finally reached the dingy building they co-owned, Tolys shut the door quietly, fearing that too much noise might make the neighbors suspicious. He was already afraid of whatever it was that Feliks might have done.

“Feliks,” he hissed, tiptoeing through the entrance. “Feliks, where are you?”

He ventured further into what might be generously referred to as the lobby, his skin hot with anxiety. Had Feliks done something stupid like gambling? He did like to go to races. What if he had borrowed money from someone and now had to pay it back? Tolys pictured a gang of snarling Italian Mafioso’s demanding money the two of them didn’t have and he prayed that they would be kind enough to grant him a last wish of buttermilk to ease his flaring ulcers.

“You can like the life you’re living, you can live the life you like” In one fell swoop, the dreary gray of the Chicago winter and the heaviness in his chest were lifted away.

It wasn’t until he dared to get closer, had to put a face to this sweet voice, that Tolys was truly in awe.

“You can even marry Harry, but mess around w-” Those full red lips were pursed in a perfectly round O shape. 

She didn’t look shocked, more annoyed that he’d interrupted her song.

“Bianca Vargas. You’re the Bianca Vargas!”

Bianca Vargas, the Jazz Slayer, as the papers had named her. Bianca was widely considered to be one of, if not the most beautiful women in Chicago. She’d had a popular singing and dancing act with her sister Felicia. That is, until Bianca been arrested for the deaths of her husband and her sister.

“Yeah, I am.” She leapt down from the stage in an unladylike hop. “Wanna make somethin’ of it?” She raised her eyebrows at him, eyes that were painted like Cleopatra’s but looked more sad than glamorous.

“I’m Tolys Laurinaitis. You know, I-I was there at the trial. When you took the stand, my goodness, Miss Vargas, you were breathtaking.” 

She’d walked into the courtroom, her head held high despite some less than polite things a few of the spectators were shouting at her. From her hat down to her shoes, she was dressed in the latest fashions, the picture of poise. Not that one would expect anything less from such a lady. 

Tolys remembered Feliks elbowing him in the ribs and whispering, “Get a load of the gams on her!” as she had walked down the aisle past them. He had rolled his eyes and blushed, wishing that Feliks wouldn’t choose such times to pursue his campaign of finding Tolys an attractive girl.

“Yeah, that’s real sweet of ya, mac, but the bank’s closed tonight . And the night after that. And the night after that…” Her voice trailed off lackadaisically as she swerved around him to get her coat.

“Wait, Miss Vargas! I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to bother you. I just heard you singing as I was coming in to do the books and-”

She turned to him with a cocked, incredulous eyebrow. 

“Books? Ya mean this place is still opened? I only came in here cause I thought it was closed down.” She surveyed the dilapidated chairs and dusty floors.

Tolys rubbed the back of his neck. “Eh-heh, we’re having a bit of a time booking entertainment.”

“It, uh,” she placed her hands on her hips, fluffed her hair, “it seems to me that we are both in similar predicaments. Ya see, you’ve got a swell little joint here with no one to headline for you and it just so happens that I have,” she clenched her teeth and grimaced, “fallen on hard times.”

“Oh yes, I can understand that it might be difficult to get work now that everyone knows about how you killed your husband and sister.”

A rather sharp looking index finger was suddenly a mere centimeter away from his left eyeball.

“Hey. Watch it, pal. I didn’t do it. That was never proven in a court a’law. Ain’t I innocent until proven guilty or some shit?”

Tolys tried to swallow to relieve his strangely parched throat. “Ah, yes, that is the law in America.”

Satisfied, she removed her finger and turned around, her hips swaying to a beat in her head. “Besides, even if I done it, could ya blame me? My old man, running around on me with my floozy of a sister.” Her lip curled contemptuously.

As swiftly as it had happened, Bianca’s forehead relaxed and she swiveled to face Tolys. “Eh, but that’s all old news. Anyhow, anyhow,” she shook her head as if to clear away the previous scene, her dark bob haircut swishing wildly.

“Here’s the deal. You get this place looking good. New chairs, new paint, white tablecloths, make it real ritzy. I’ll headline for you. We gotta make it sound real nifty.” 

She paused, resting her chin on top of her little fist. Tolys couldn’t help finding this extremely cute.

“I got it, I got it! I’m a bad girl, a femme fatale. I murdered and got away with it, now I’m here on stage singing and dancing a few little numbers. I’ll wear red, deep blood red. It’ll be real scandalous, I’ll flash my garters, make a few old birds keel over from shock, get some editorials sayin’ all kinds of lousy stuff about me and this place. Folks from all over the city’ll be dying to get in the door!”

“You want people to say bad things about us in the newspapers?”

She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. “Keep up, T, keep up, would ya? Publicity is publicity and when something bad’s going on, people want in!”

Tolys didn’t know how to respond. He’d never met a woman so… spirited as Bianca. She’d killed two people in a jealous rage. She was a dangerous criminal.   
And yet… she was just so beautiful. Her hazel eyes looked so child-like and scared. He remembered reading about her in the papers. She had come to the United States from Italy at twelve years old speaking no English and with nothing but the clothes on her back. She was just like him, an immigrant trying to carve out a living in the land of opportunity. 

But she had something he didn’t. She knew exactly what era she was living in. She was glamor, excess, scandal. She could charm audiences with her beads and sequins and smiles. 

“Tolys, hey, Tolys!”

“Ah, yes?”

“Whaddya say? We got a deal?” She wiggled her outstretched hand enticingly.

“It’s a deal.”  
~~~

“No, I’m no one’s wife, but, oh, I love my life!” Bianca was on stage, delivering the grand finale of her closing number. She was perfectly resplendent, flushed cheeks and a smile that was too blissful to be acted.

Feliks was standing next to Tolys in the right wing of the stage, a similar grin stretching across his face.

“Boy, Tolys, we had a packed house again tonight. I was turning people away! You know, if this keeps up, you might just have to make an honest woman out of Bianca.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tolys mumbled, looking off into the direction of the spotlight.

Feliks rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, pal. I’ve seen you two disappear into her dressing room after shows and you ain’t playin’ tiddlywinks in there.”

“Feliks, honestly!” Tolys was sure his face had never been so hot and his voice hadn’t been that high since he was a boy.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Be a nice Catholic boy, marry the dame, and have a whole bunch of kids. Just make sure I’m the godfather. It’s only fair after I put all this work in.”

“Oh please, what work did you put in?”

“Do ya really think a doll like her just came wandering in to a crummy place like this? I told her you’d let headline if she went in and sweet-talked you.”

Tolys turned towards Feliks and gaped. “You didn’t.”

“Thank you, thank you, you’ve been a swell audience tonight. I love you all!” Bianca blew kisses towards her adoring public, most of the men and a fair few women getting particularly rowdy when she kissed in their direction.

With one last wave, she strutted off stage and into the wing her business partners were standing in. With a sly smile, she grabbed Tolys by the chin, kissed him full on the mouth, and pinched his cheek. 

“See ya later, carissimo”

Tolys stared after her, his face becoming comically beleaguered. “How am I ever supposed to get a woman like that to settle down?”

“Eh, you worry too much. If you can make it in a hard ass place like Chicago, you can make it with Bianca. Like that Irish guy says , it's the Jazz Age.”

Tolys shrugged and smiled. “I suppose you’re right. It is a wonderful time we’re living in.”

“Yep! Besides, what could possibly go wrong?”


End file.
